


survivor

by nonbinaryezrabridger



Category: Farscape
Genre: Episode s01e03 Back and Back and Back Again to the Future, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Introspection, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Trauma, Zhaan is a good friend, do not copy to other sites, john/matala is non con and in a future flash, rape/non con is non explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryezrabridger/pseuds/nonbinaryezrabridger
Summary: John sees himself and Matala together in a future flash. It doesn't end up happening, but that doesn't mean he's unaffected by it.[This is written by a survivor of sexual assault as a realistic depiction of sexual trauma. Do not interact if you fetishize rape]
Relationships: John Crichton/Matala
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	survivor

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this bc the john/matala scenes in the episode felt so rapey to me that I felt the need to address how john would feel about it, give him a little bit of closure maybe? idk alot of this story is really just me projecting
> 
> tw for this story:
> 
> obviously, implied past rape, non graphic descriptions of said rape, nothing worse than shown in the episode. John also has some internalized issues about what qualifies as assault and what doesn't, which leads to invalidating his own experiences, which could be triggering. generally his opinions on sexual assault are pretty unhealthy, which I do not condone but I felt was more realistic

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John has found the most remote corner of Moya to curl up in, just sitting alone with his thoughts. They’re swirling in a whirlwind of mixed emotions. He’s happy, he really is, that they made it out of the Matala situation alive. After feeling himself stabbed through by D’argo, he recognizes things could be a lot worse. And, the visions he had of himself and Matala...together...hadn’t even come true. 

So why won’t the images go away?

He feels like he can still feel it, her hand crushingly tight around his throat, just enough to make breathing difficult. Her lips, running down his stomach, the press of teeth against the vulnerable skin. Her fingers, claw like, running down his chest. Her voice, hissing and undulating so strangely.

He shakes himself, trying to get rid of the images and the feelings they bring up. It hadn’t happened. Except that he had felt it as if it had. So what did that mean? He hadn’t really been violated, but it sure as hell felt like it.

Maybe then, the fact that he felt like he’d been violated was enough? Maybe he actually had been? That would certainly help explain his reaction. Why he jumps out of his skin whenever Aeryn or Zhaan brush past him in the hallway. Why he keeps having nightmares of Matala, clawing her way out of that black hole to run her hands over him again. Why he hadn’t been able to stop himself from crying after the visions had been gone and he was back in the safety of his quarters. 

He knows of PTSD, in the vague way most people do, but had never thought it would be relevant to his life. He hadn’t expected anything too traumatic to happen to him, he was a scientist not a soldier. Yet now here he is, stuck halfway across the galaxy with the constant threat of death. That could definitely give him PTSD, not to mention what Matala had done to him. 

God, this is strange. Was he really thinking of himself as a victim? It’s not like he’s weak, or helpless, the way the word victim seems to imply. Wasn’t there a better word for this?

He’s broken out of his thoughts by soft footsteps approaching. He considers getting up and trying to leave before the other person could catch up with him, feeling flayed open and vulnerable and not wanting to be seen. But before he can move, Zhaan rounds the corner. She smiles gently, looking him over with her kind blue eyes. He sighs softly; of all the crew to see him like this, Zhaan will be the most understanding. Zhaan folds her hands in front of her and says:

“John, I was beginning to worry when I could not find you.”

John does his best to smile for her, though the expression feels wrong on his face, and says:

“Yeah, I just needed somewhere to think.”

Zhaan nods and sits, settling down next to him with her usual grace. She speaks:

“Yes, I had a feeling you are still disturbed by the events of three days ago. Is there any way that I may help?”

John sighs. He’s pretty sure on earth PTSD is treated by therapy, but out here talking to his friends is probably the closest he’s going to get. Which means he really should talk to Zhaan, even though he doesn’t want to. It’s just frightening; what if she thinks differently of him afterwards? But he knows Zhaan well enough to know that she won’t. She’s too nice for that. So he braces himself and speaks:

“There’s something about the visions I didn’t tell you. Something I saw, something I felt. It was Matala, she was...”

Trying to put words to it feels impossible. The wrongness of it, the pain, the violation, feels like more than can be fit into a couple tiny words. But he’s going to have to name it eventually, so he continues:

“She was touching me. Hurting me, I guess you’d call it assault.”

Zhaan looks calm, but her eyes are stony. Still, her voice is gentle as she says:

“You were sexually assaulted.”

John can’t help but flinch at the words. When he looks down at his hands, they’re shaking. He feels like he could fly apart, like he’s so fragile he might break.

“I mean, yes? But no, it didn’t really happen.”

Zhan is gentle but sure as she says:

“But you felt it. That is enough, John.”

John feels himself slump, a twisted sort of relief filling him at hearing her say it. He stutters:

“Okay, okay.”

Zhaan watches him, her bright eyes turning sadder and sadder. She whispers:

“I am sorry for what was done to you, John.”

John flinches at that, his breathing going ragged. He has the urge to cry again and he really doesn’t want to do so in front of Zhaan so he pushes it down as best he can. He struggles to say:

“Thanks.”

They sit in silence, neither quite sure what to say, until a thought strikes him.

“Hey Zhaan. Is there a better word for what I am than victim?”

Zhaan smiles, something sharp with a proud edge.

“Indeed there is. Many who have experienced such things call themselves survivors.”

John rolls the word around in his mind, feeling how it fits, and slowly a smile creeps across his face.

“Survivor. I like that.”

\---------


End file.
